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But... It's Monday!

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Summary: Sometimes Mondays are just as sucktastic as Tuesdays.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > Pretender(Past Donor)CharlotteFR711,167051,88711 Oct 0711 Oct 07Yes
Summary: Sometimes Mondays are just as sucktastic as Tuesdays.
Pairing: Dawn / Angelo (Pretender) Non-pairing
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


BtVS/Pretender

A/N: Suffice it to say, I’ve done research til I can’t do no more and still don’t know fo sho. So… Joyce has blue eyes.




But… It’s Monday!




Without their knowledge, Dawn had accepted the invitation to interview for the company in Delaware despite her family’s vocal protests. Willow had had her eye on The Centre for some time now; thinking that they might have taken over where the Initiative had left off. The recruitment letter immediately after graduation had been a fortuitous thing and Dawn chose to ignore the fact that her family thought it was sent as a possible way to get to the IWC and not that the company was impressed with her.

It was a good thing then that the only way any of them would be able to get a look around and possibly discover just what this company was up to was through Dawn. After warding the youngest Scooby to the max, the group finally ‘let’ her accept the invitation. She’d just keep it to herself that she would have gone anyway.

After a thirty minute delay in security, Dawn was finally cleared for her meeting. One would think she was some sneaky individual trying to steal info… Don’t laugh; she’d totally given up her clepto habit… mostly.

Her interview had been with the CEO, Mr. Parker; a rather distinguished older man and after speaking with him at some length, he’d escorted her to another office and left her with another man for what Dawn assumed was ‘the fifty cent tour’. Dawn assumed that the tour would be worth less than that considering the massive security and the fact that she hadn’t yet been offered a job or signed any type of confidentiality agreement. Broots was nice enough and reminded Dawn a lot of Andrew, only without the giggling and Star Wars action figures. When she asked for the bathroom, he blushed and stammered out that he would wait for her in the hall, to which she smirked and thanked him.

Willow said all Dawn had to do was make sure she attached the magical ‘bug’ to some wiring, like the smoke alarm in a bathroom and handy wiccan hacker Willow would be able to access anything connected to the power grid in the building. It would also replicate itself so that even if someone managed to find one, they would never be able to find them all. Dawn managed to plant the bug without incident or noise and was washing her hands when the murmur of male voices sounded out in the hall. There was a knock and Broots asked through the door, “Um, Miss Summers?”

“Yes Mr. Broots?”

“I’m sorry but, ah, I h-have sort of an emergency; d-do you think you could find your way back to my office by yourself? It sh-shouldn’t take me long to get this cleared up.”

His stuttering reminded her of Tara and Dawn felt a minute twinge of guilt. “Um, sure.”

“O-okay, just make sure you go straight back to my office?”

“Uh, alright, can we stop talking now?”

“Sorry.”

The sound of receding footsteps sent a thrill of anticipation through Dawn. Now maybe she could wander around pretending to be lost and actually ‘see’ something.

She should have looked at the calendar and remembered that although it wasn’t technically Tuesday, Mondays sucked just as hard. Now she was sitting in some grimy unused office, waiting for whomever The Centre used as their head interrogator and damned if she didn’t have to pee again. Not really, she was just that scared. Because the assholes took her purse in which she had placed her ‘I’m in danger’ alarm.

Buffy was never going to let her out of her sight again.

Dawn didn’t know what was worse; the anticipation of being possibly tortured or the creepy feeling of being watched.

She looked up at the vent when a soft scraping sound drifted down and then Dawn was suddenly looking at a large hand waving at her from inside the large intake vent. She looked around for a second and then moved over to the opening. She ‘eeped’ quietly as the hand shot out again and shrugging, she grabbed it and held back a yelp as a strong grip pulled her up high enough that she could pull herself up and into the venting. There was barely enough room for her to replace the grate before she was following the ass end of what she desperately hoped was someone/thing friendly.

The dark shape disappeared and revealed soft light and then Dawn fell into an empty space. Grateful she had decided on a pantsuit, Dawn brushed herself off as she scanned the area. Her gaze fell on a man kind of crouched over a file box. He was pawing through it but as she approached, he stiffened and then looked up at her. Dawn barely managed to stifle her gasp. Even though the memories weren’t truly hers, Dawn remembered looking through the family photo album with her mother. And this man had her Grandpa Joe’s face. She and her sister had lamented the fact that they had inherited their father’s hazel/green instead of the blue of their mother and Grandfather. She knew he couldn’t be her grandfather and since he’d pulled her into the vent, it wasn’t the First either. A niggling in the back of her mind told her she would figure it out given enough time. Time that she was pretty sure she didn’t have.

He handed a file folder to her and then opened up a laptop sitting next to him and handed it to her. Dawn looked from the computer with an open connection to him and asked, “Who are you and why are you helping me?”

He flinched for a second and then met her eyes again. “Bad plans for green girls. They are dipping into things they should stay away from.” His face darkened. “Bad enough to make men like me, but they want to… Can’t let them. No. Send your friend a message, get you out.”

“What’s your name?”

He squinted at her and then whispered, “Wasn’t always, but they call me Angelo. You need to contact the red lady.”

Dawn didn’t need to be told twice; well she did, but not a third time and she sent Willow an IM. Before she could tell Willow there was a second person with her for transport, an amulet fell through the air and when it made contact with the skin of her palm she felt the build up of a transportation spell. She looked at Angelo and moved to grab him, hoping the spell was strong enough to take them both, but he moved out of her reach and smiled as he waved.

The corners of his eyes crinkled in a familiar way and as the spell took hold, that elusive memory kicked in and Dawn yelled, “Uncle Tim!”



END

Ducks and runs for cover… Yes I know I’m evil. Note that it’s evil with a little ‘e’.

The End

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